Choices
by Lady Clover
Summary: Hermione Granger is living as a single mother in the muggle world until an incident concerning her daughter leads to kidnapping by the father. HGSS
1. Default Chapter

Choices by Lady Clover. Clover_Witch@hotmail.com  
  
SS/HG Post Hogwarts  
  
Chapter rating: PG  
  
Chapter Summary: Hermione Granger has been living with her daughter Jasmine, in a nasty run down flat, as a Muggle for the last three years. Her mother makes an offer to move back home to help rebuild her life.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All respective copyrights belong to their owners. No infringement is intended, and no permission was given to the author to use J.K. Rowling's characters and places.  
  
Many thanks go to my Britpicker Yncairn8. All of the Briticisms that you see are hers.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
"No Jasmine. We don't pull the cat's tail. Pet him nicely." Hermione knelt next to her daughter, prizing her little fist from the cat's tail. Crookshanks took off like a shot and hid underneath the entertainment center, immediately sitting on his tail, smoothing out the rumpled fur with quick deliberate strokes of his long pink tongue.  
  
Jasmine looked up at Hermione, eyes bright with tears. "Mummy." She whinged, her bottom lip quivered. Hermione sensed the impending storm and scooped her up into her arms.  
  
"Shush, it's ok Love, Mummy just didn't want to see you get hurt." She didn't think that Crooks would have bitten her daughter on purpose, but the cat was fickle and had become quite unstable in his old age. "What's this? You're all sticky. Has Gran been giving you sweeties again?"  
  
"Yes I have." Her mum said, coming into the room with a basket of towels.  
  
"Mum . . . I wish you wouldn't. Honestly. You're a dentist, you should know better." Hermione said, picking cat hairs from Jasmine's sticky fist which she had started to suck on. "Well, lets clean you up then." She scooped a washcloth from the basket and set off to the kitchen. Her mother followed close behind, setting the basket down on the kitchen table.  
  
"Darling, I only have one grandchild. I'm allowed to spoil her any way I see fit." She said sitting down with a sigh. Make us a cuppa, Love?"  
  
"Make one yourself. You know where I keep the tea things." Hermione said, scrubbing at Jasmine's face and hands with the damp washcloth. Jasmine squirmed and fussed, trying to avoid the cloth. "Hold still. You know this is your entire fault. Giving my daughter sweets. You should be the one cleaning her up."  
  
"No dear, grandmother's privilege. I have all the fun, and you do the nappies and washing up. Besides, I'm folding your laundry, the least you could do for your poor old mum is to make me a cup of tea for my trouble."  
  
"Fine." Hermione said, satisfied that she had gotten the worst of the mess. "I'm going to put Jasmine down for her nap. You'll have to wait for your tea."  
  
"No dear. Let me." Her mother said, scooping Jasmine out of Hermione's arms, singing to the toddler as she left the kitchen.  
  
Hermione dropped the washcloth into the sink. She sighed to the now empty room. Who would have thought that her life would turn out like this? She was a single mother with no one to look out for her but her parents. Certainly she didn't. Don't think about it, Hermione. Chin up. Deep breath in, slow breath out. Make the tea, put the kettle on the gas, get the milk and sugar, set out the cups, but don't fret on it. She let out a shaky breath and started the ritual of making the afternoon tea.  
  
Her mother came back into the room, and Hermione looked at her. Mum looked as if she wanted to say something, but was afraid to start. Finally she spoke.  
  
"Hermione. Your father and I were talking, and we'd like it very much if you and Jasmine would move in with us. Now hear me out," she said putting her hand up, "this flat is far too small for the both of you. Your father and I have this worked out. We have plenty of room now that your sister has left for college. We have a garden - - that child needs a garden to run around in - - and June, our receptionist, is leaving to have her baby. We have no problem setting up a play area for Jasmine in the office while you work. Please say yes? It would mean so much to your father." Her mother said, enfolding Hermione into her embrace. Hermione felt boneless and leaned against her mother as she spoke.  
  
"Mum. You know I can't. It's too dangerous. I can't risk your lives . . ." Hermione felt the tears welling up inside of her, and her throat felt very tight.  
  
"Oh, not that nonsense . . . please. It's been nearly three years now. Nothing is going to happen. Don't let old fears prevent you from getting your life back." Her mother said, smoothing a hand through Hermione's hair.  
  
"But mum . . . Voldemort - -" The kettle was whistling. Hermione's mother broke their embrace to remove it from the gas before it started shrieking and woke Jasmine. Hermione swiped at her eyes, brushing away her tears, and sat down at the kitchen table, letting her mother finish the tea. She picked up a towel and started folding it. She left the rest of her thought unspoken, but it was there, hanging between them in the too tiny kitchen like a white elephant that neither one wanted to acknowledge.  
  
"Hermione. Even if you did decide not to move home, you can't continue to live in Council housing forever. What kind of lesson are you teaching Jasmine if you continue to live on benefits? You need to think about tomorrow. You could carry on with your education. At least take a few classes in the evening at London South Bank University. If you want to remain here in Elephant and Castle, I could come and watch Jasmine. It would be no problem for me. I can take the train out after work, and then your father could come for me when you are done." Her mother said, setting a steaming mug of tea in front of Hermione, in the clear spot where she had been folding towels.  
  
Hermione looked into her cup, swirling the teabag a few times with her spoon, hedging. It was a wonderful offer. The flat was too small. It was nothing more than a living room, bedroom and kitchen. The walls were paper thin, the rent too high, and there was a vermin problem, further evidence of Crookshanks's growing infirmity. The area was also dodgy; Hermione's car had been stolen twice before she finally gave up keeping one altogether. The lure of a better job than the one she had now for the local bookshop and the opportunity to return to school, even if it was a muggle university, pulled her strongly towards saying yes. But there was the issue of Voldemort, and her parents safety . . . While it was true that no overt actions had been made against her during the last three years, could she risk endangering their lives any further?  
  
"Mum. Let me think about it." She said simply, and took a sip of her tea. She had been unaware that she had been holding her mug so tightly, and she released her grip on it, her fingers smarting from the heat.  
  
"You do that dear." Her mother said. "Have you given any thought to who you are going to invite to Jasmine's birthday party. She's going to be two, and that is plenty old enough for guests. Does she have any little friends at her childminder's that we should invite? Have you given any thought to the theme?"  
  
"I'll ask Susan tomorrow when I see her." Hermione said, sipping at her tea. "As for a theme, Jasmine absolutely adores Bob the Builder. Would it be too much to ask if you did the shopping? I barely have enough for presents."  
  
"No dear, that would be fine. I want you to take care of the invitations. I know this is a tender subject for you, but will you be inviting any of your friends from Hogwarts?"  
  
"Mum!" Hermione set her cup down hard and some of the tea sloshed out over her hand. "How could you ask that? If I were still on speaking terms with them, I would certainly not invite a house full of wizards to a birthday party attended by muggle children and their parents! It would be disastrous. No, absolutely not!"  
  
~*~  
  
Later that evening as Hermione dressed for bed, she looked over at her sleeping daughter. Jasmine was flushed pink in her pyjamas and her jet- black hair stuck to her sweaty face in clumps. Hermione considered undressing her. She cursed the fact that she could not open the window for fear of someone breaking in. She leaned over the crib, carefully stripping the sleeper off, and changed her nappy. Jasmine's eyes fluttered open, and Hermione found herself looking into twin pools of fathomless black. Just like her father's eyes. Hermione felt her throat close up again. Don't think about it. Don't think . . . The baby muttered fussily, and gave a shuddering breath slipping back into sleep. Hermione dropped the soiled nappy into the pail in the bathroom, and drew a bath, letting the running water mask the sound of her crying.  
  
~*~  
  
She awoke early the next morning, bleary eyed and drained from lack of proper sleep. Her mother's offer weighed terribly against her heart. Jasmine, sensing her mother's wakefulness, bounced at the rails of her cot, jabbering and impatient to be up. How could she say no? Was she doing herself and Jasmine a disservice by remaining here? What kind of life could she expect for them if she remained here, in poverty? She groaned, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. Jasmine's jabbering became more insistent, and a cuddly toy that was thrown across the room with much more force than the child should have been able to muster suddenly struck Hermione on her forehead. Jasmine giggled.  
  
"Oh you naughty little girl . . .wait a sec. . . did you just do what I think you did?" Hermione said. She was stunned. She looked at her daughter who immediately did it again. She saw the toy float up out of the crib and fly across the room, smacking harmlessly into the wall by the door. Jasmine shrieked with laughter.  
  
"Oooooh! Oh Jasmine. Thank Merlin. You're not a squib!" Hermione laughed and swept her daughter up into her arms. "Just wait till I tell your Grandparents." She tickled and kissed her, causing her daughter to squeal with delight. She carried Jasmine into the kitchen and set her in her high chair. "Just for that you get scrambled eggs on toast." She said.  
  
"Muumm mumm mum. Egg!" Jasmine giggled and smacked her lips appreciatively, while Hermione dug around in the fridge for the eggs, butter, toast and strawberry jam. The milk was almost gone, and the shelves were just shy of bare, but there was enough for this morning. Hermione did some quick calculations, trying to work out how much was in the coin jar she kept in her room. Enough for more milk and train fare, but it looked as if she would be stopping by her parent's home for dinner for the next few nights. Whipping up the eggs she added a little milk to make them fluffier. At least there was enough for Jasmine, and so what if she only got the crust? At least her daughter would eat well today. And what about tomorrow? A little voice at the back of her head said. What about the day after? What about the rent and utilities? After they're paid will you have enough for food then?  
  
"Shut up." She muttered and slammed her fist onto the counter. Jasmine's face darkened. "Oh, not you honey, Mummy's talking to herself again." But the girl didn't understand and started to wail. "Oh love, here." She said, hurriedly spreading the preserves on the toast and dishing up the scrambled egg. She set it in front of Jasmine, who devoured the toast.  
  
~*~  
  
After work she stopped by the childminder to pick up Jasmine. Susan, the woman who had been minding Jasmine for the last six months or so was clearly flustered. "Miss Granger. I cannot mind your daughter any longer. Strange things happen around her, and the child is to blame. I can sense it."  
  
"But . . . I don't have anyone else . . ." Hermione gasped.  
  
"No buts. That child is some kind of monster, and I'll not have her in my house again." Susan said. Jasmine was already dressed and ready to go, and she was pressed into Hermione's arms. She was crying hysterically, and a bruise was rising on her cheek in the shape of a handprint.  
  
"Did you strike my daughter?" Hermione asked. Ice was in her veins.  
  
"Prove it." Susan said and slammed the door into her face. Hermione was shaking with anger and Jasmine's hysterics increased.  
  
"Hush, hush." Hermione murmured, brushing Jasmine's hair aside to better look at her face. Yes, she had been struck. A handprint was clearly visible. "Oh baby, oh, mummy is so sorry. You won't be going back. That nasty woman will never touch you again. I swear."  
  
Twenty minutes later they were at the police station and a policewoman was taking a statement. It felt like an interrogation.  
  
"I didn't strike my daughter, if that is what you are implying. It was her childminder. That's why I'm here. To make a complaint."  
  
Ms. Granger, please calm down. I must examine every possibility. If this turns out to be true your childminder will lose her registration. This is a very serious allegation. Do you live with Jasmine's father or do you have a live in boyfriend?"  
  
"No, we live alone. I haven't spoken with Jasmine's father since before she was born."  
  
"And where is Jasmine's father?" Said the Policewoman, who in Hermione's mind was quickly turning into P.C. Bitch-of-the-yard.  
  
"Abroad. Look I don't see what he has to do with this." Hermione said.  
  
"Just procedure. Was there any abuse in your relationship?"  
  
"I will not answer that question. Now if you are quite finished." Hermione said, gathering her things.  
  
"Certainly, we'll send someone out to speak with the childminder, and someone from social services will be visiting you at your home in a day or so to make an assessment."  
  
"I don't see what my home has to do with this." Hermione spat, scooping up Jasmine.  
  
"Just procedure. Do you have a contact number for Jasmine's father?"  
  
"No." She said, through gritted teeth. "I can't give you that information."  
  
"You can't or you won't?" The policewoman said.  
  
"I can't. You'd never be able to reach him. It's impossible."  
  
"I see." She said. "Well then, could you at least give us his name?"  
  
"Severus Snape." Hermione said, and she burst into tears. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that you recognize. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. I am using them without her consent, but lovingly.  
  
A/N Chapter was revised on May 18, 2004 to reflect the changes recommended by my brit-picker, Yncarn. Nearly all of the changes were made verbatim from her suggestions. Thanks!

* * *

Hermione dashed out of the Police station to the nearest public toilet. The place was dingy and smelled strongly of urine. The hand dryer had been ripped from the wall and there was a spreading pool of water on the floor by a bunged up toilet. She sat Jasmine on the counter and pulled a couple of paper towels off of the roll that had been put next to the empty dispenser. To her disappointment the water from the tap would not get hot. She wet the towels, wringing out the excess and examined her face in the stainless steel mirror. It was pale and blotchy, her eyes red rimmed.  
  
How dare the PC accuse her of hurting Jasmine? The very idea was appalling. She would never hit a child, least of all her own daughter. Never.  
  
Jasmine squirmed irritably on the countertop, eager to explore, straining against Hermione's steadying grasp.  
  
"Hold on baby." Hermione said, and she quickly wiped her face clean. She felt polluted. No amount of scrubbing could lessen the sensation. The feeling went down through the layers of her skin and lay against her heart like a stone. Why did they have to ask about Him? And why did she allow them to wrench his name from that carefully guarded place in her mind? 'Did you think that they would have taken her away if you refused to answer? Yes. Maybe. No.' She was behaving like a frightened schoolgirl.  
  
"Aaaaaah! Mum mum mum, go go go!"  
  
"All right, all right. We're leaving." Hermione said. It was just a moment of weakness, too much stress, too much fear, and a moment of stupidity on her part. They would never find him. If anyone could be farther removed from her world, it was he. They were safe for now. Jasmine is safe.  
  
"Come on Jas, We're going to ride the train to Grandma and Granddad's." Hermione said, dialing all of the happiness that she could into her voice, and sticking her tongue out at her daughter. She scooped her up onto her hip and walked out of the loo with her head held high.  
  
She was washing the dishes with her father when she finally worked up enough nerve to ask for what she needed. Jasmine and her mum were in the next room playing. Mum's cheerful voice was punctuated by Jasmine's shouts of undiluted glee. Hermione spoke softly.  
  
"Dad. I need to borrow some money. Jasmine's childminder has dropped me right in it and won't take her anymore, and we have no food . . . "Her voice was halting. "I'll pay you back as soon as I can manage." Merlin, she felt awful.  
  
"How much do you need?" Her father said, wiping his hands on the dishtowel, and setting it next to the drying rack.  
  
"Whatever you can spare. Not a lot, enough to pay a childminder for a few days, and for some groceries. I can't take another advance from work, Mr. Charles says that business is too slow, and he doesn't have it to give . . ."  
  
"Hermione . . . Why do you keep doing this to yourself? You're not going to be able to give Jasmine what she needs if you insist on continuing this way."  
  
"Dad. It's hard. I already told Mum that I would think it over. Will you give me the money?"  
  
Her dad looked hard at her, deliberating. "Yes . . . I'll help you, on the condition that you come home."  
  
How she had wanted to scream yes! 'Take me away from that grotty flat, and my wretched job. Yes.'  
  
"I can't. It's too dangerous." She said, defeated. She left the kitchen.  
  
"Mum. We have to leave now. Please get Jasmine's things." She said.  
  
Her mother looked up from her place on the floor. "Oh, must you? We've barely had time for a visit!" She pouted. Jasmine was rolling on the floor, belly exposed, face flushed and ravished from the tickles that had been lavished upon her.  
  
"No, I'm afraid we have to leave before it gets much later. We have to take the train, and the neighborhood is not safe at night."  
  
"Alright then," she said looking up at her husband. "Dear, why don't you give them a lift? See them home properly."  
  
"Right." Her father said, disappearing to the closet. When he returned he was carrying Hermione's purse and Jasmine's nappy bag.  
  
Hermione hugged her mum goodbye, and had Jasmine do the same, although the girl still didn't quite understand goodbye hugs, she made a show of blowing kisses. They got into the car and drove across town. Hermione's father walked them up to the door and pressed a thick roll of twenty- pound notes into her hand.  
  
"I hope this is enough for now. Please reconsider, darling. It would mean so much to your mum." He said.  
  
Hermione gave him a wistful look and kissed him lightly on his cheek. "Thanks Dad." She tucked the money into the pocket of her jeans, and left him there on the steps.  
  
When she reached the door to her flat she found it ajar. Immediately apprehensive, she passed it for her neighbor's flat. Chris was a young university student, about a year and a half her junior, a Rugger type. He answered her frantic knocking clad only in a towel, his hair still wet and soapy from the shower. Balancing Jasmine on her hip, she pushed past him into his flat. He quirked an eyebrow at her and let her pass.  
  
"Chris, I'm sorry for interrupting your bath, but I need your help." She could feel her face flush looking at him dripping wet. She had not seen so much naked male flesh since the days of following Harry and Ron into the locker room after their Quidditch matches.  
  
"Yes?" He asked her. "Hang on." He disappeared back into the bathroom for a minute, and when he returned he was fully dressed, toweling his hair.  
  
"Ok, what can I do for you, beautiful?" He said.  
  
"Please . . .I . . .. I think someone broke into my flat. Would you make sure that whoever it is has gone?"  
  
"Sure." He said, grimacing. "Someone broke in here about three months ago. Never caught them. If they're still over there, they're going to be very sorry." He said. He rummaged around underneath his couch and brought out a cricket bat. Holding it like a club, he brushed past Hermione, tweaking Jasmine affectionately on her cheek. "Hello love, we'll make sure you and your gorgeous mummy are safe."  
  
Hermione followed behind him, and waited in the hall just outside the door. Chris slipped in quietly, hugging the wall. He soon disappeared from sight. Seconds later there was a shout followed by a crack and a sickening thud as a body hit the floor.  
  
"You can come in now." Chris called. "Got your intruder, knocked him flat on his ass." He said to her as they met up at the entrance to her living room.  
  
"Scary looking bloke. Old fella dressed in black robes of all things. Goth weirdo!" His face was flushed and his eyes gleamed wickedly.  
  
Hermione felt her heart give out. "Here!" She pressed Jasmine into his arms, and rounded the settee. There on the floor was the one man that she most dreaded to see.  
  
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" She said kneeling down, brushing his hair out of his face. He was out cold. She touched his neck, feeling for a pulse.  
  
His eyes fluttered open, dazedly, and then focused on her face. "Hermione?"  
  
"You know this tosser?" Chris said. Jasmine was looking on interestedly, pawing at Chris's face, wanting to go to her mother.  
  
"Yes. I know him quite well. Chris, meet Jasmine's father. Severus Snape."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or places that you recognize. J.K Rowling does.  
  
If anyone is interested in betaing or brit picking this story for me please let me know. Reviews and con-crit are appreciated and encouraged.  
  
O O O O O O O O O O O O O O  
  
"Her father . . .You actually slept with this loser? Christ Hermione, he must be at least thirty years older than you."  
  
The words were no sooner out of Chris's mouth than all hell broke loose. Severus was off of the floor so quickly that he looked like an inky blur. He barreled into the man, his wand pressed painfully into the side of Chris's thick neck, the tip digging into his jugular. Jasmine's squirming ceased. Eyes bulging, lips quivering, she looked at her father and gave a piercing shriek.  
  
"SEVERUS, NO!" Hermione cried.  
  
Hermione looked with horror as the scene unfolded before her. Jasmine was slipping from Chris's grasp, but Severus's fury was so great that he did not seem to notice. She lunged between the two, seizing Jasmine to her breast. Jasmine clung to her, howling into her chest.  
  
"What? You have a knife? You want to cut me? Go ahead. I'll have your balls for garters before you can even stick me." Chris growled, trying to menace Severus, whose only answer was to press harder.  
  
"I have killed for less. I could slaughter you with a word." His voice was hardly more than a whisper, his mouth was a thin grim line on his pallid face, and his dark eyes were narrowed in hatred. "So this is who you chose to replace me Hermione? This ape? I thought you were more discriminating. I must say I am disappointed."  
  
"Severus, put your wand away." Hermione pleaded.  
  
"I could make it look like an accident." Severus mused.  
  
"WAND? You mean to tell me that this wanker has a wand at my neck? Oh mate, that does it." Chris raised his hand to smack the wand away.  
  
"Chris, don't move. He's not lying. Severus, you are in serious breach of the Muggle Protection Act. Please put your wand away. Don't make me beg." Hermione kept her voice as neutral as she could, but there was a hint of hysteria around the edge of her words.  
  
"Muggle Protection Act? Oh please, don't tell me that you've actually believe this headfuck's tosh?"  
  
"SILENCE!" Severus snapped, spittle flecked from his mouth and Jasmine renewed her howling.  
  
"Look what you've done. You should be ashamed of yourself, terrifying a child and bullying an innocent man." Hermione scolded, choosing to ignore Chris's asides to her. Instead she split her attention between Severus and her terrified daughter.  
  
"Oh yes, I'm a monster and a bully, is that what you want to hear? As I recall those were your parting words to me, dearest Wife. If memory serves me I found you in similar straights once before. You were whoring around with Weasley, as I recall. I'm sure you remember how I dealt with him?"  
  
Hermione recoiled as if slapped.  
  
"Oh I remember." Her voice was low and bitter. "Know this, Severus. Chris is just as innocent as Ron was, let him go."  
  
"Weasley learned a valuable lesson at the end of my boot, I doubt he'll ever pursue another married woman." He muttered.  
  
"Chris is my 'neighbor', Severus, not my lover. You're a Legilimens, look at him and tell me that I am lying."  
  
Severus wound his free hand around the material at Chris's collar, his wand still pressed firmly at his jugular, and pulled him so closely that their noses were touching.  
  
"Are you sleeping with my wife?" He breathed. "Show me."  
  
Chris stiffened and then stilled, his eyes locked onto Severus's and became glassy. The two men stood there silently for a moment, and then just as suddenly as he had grabbed Chris, Severus released him.  
  
"Pity . . ." He murmured. Shaking his head slowly, his back turned to Chris.  
  
"Wha . . . What did you just do to me?" Chris breathed.  
  
"Now do you see?" Hermione pleaded.  
  
"I'd stay far away from this cretin in the future, my Love. His mind is a cesspool and although he has most certainly never touched you . . ."  
  
"You're insane!" Chris shouted. "I'm leaving."  
  
"Not yet, you loathsome waste." Turning on his heal, and pointing his wand at Chris once more, he shouted, "Obliviate!"  
  
Chris stumbled backward, blinking owlishly.  
  
"Severus! That was barbaric! You could have cooked his brain." Hermione gasped, setting Jasmine on the sofa.  
  
"Show him out, Hermione, before I change my mind." Severus swept between them and went into the kitchen. There was the sound of glass clinking and water flowing from the tap.  
  
"Chris? Are you ok?"  
  
"Uhm. I think so. I just had a moment there."  
  
"Well, thank you for seeing me in, as you can see nothing is out of place. I'm so silly; I must have left the door ajar. She made a little whoops gesture with her hands, and rolled her eyes.  
  
"Any time Hermione." Chris mumbled absently before staggering out of the flat.  
  
Hermione followed him as far as the door, locking the deadbolt and securing the chain.  
  
She pressed her forehead against the cool wood of the door. 'Why now?' She wondered. 'Why can't he leave me in peace?' Her stomach was churning and the short hairs on her arms were standing at attention. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Jasmine was whimpering from her place on the couch. Hermione's hand stole to the bulge of bills in her pocket. Her purse and Jasmine's nappy bag were still piled by the door where she had left them. She could just grab her daughter and leave. Run into the night. But where would they go? If he had found her flat, he could find her anywhere. Her parent's home was definitely out of the question, she could not endanger them like that, not when they were all that she had in this world. She was tired of running away. She had been running for so long, and she was so very weary.  
  
"Are you going to stand there all night?" Severus said.  
  
Her eyes flew open. He was standing barely two feet away from her in the hall, a glass of ice water in his hand.  
  
"Here, drink this." He pressed the glass into her hand.  
  
"Why should I trust you?"  
  
"My dear, if I were going to poison you, I would just do it. It's only water, drink it." He chuckled. "If you don't believe me . . ." He stepped closer, standing only inches from her. The scent of sandalwood invaded her nostrils. His scent. His hand grazed hers and he took the glass and raised it to his lips, emptying half of it in one smooth gulp. He handed her the half empty glass, ice tinkled against the sides. His long delicate fingers wiped at the wetness above his upper lip. "See, it's perfectly safe." He murmured.  
  
"Thank you, Severus, but I would rather have tea." She gasped, sidling past him through the empty space between his body and the wall. She strode quickly to the kitchen, flustered and more than a little bit angry. 'Why is he behaving like this? If I didn't know better I'd think he was trying to seduce me.' She set the glass into the sink, pouring out the remaining liquid. The ice cubes settled into the drain. She felt someone touch her leg and she startled. Turning around quickly, expecting to find him there, she knocked over Jasmine, who had grabbed onto her pant leg. Jasmine sat on the floor with a thud and began to cry again.  
  
"Oh honey, mummy's so sorry." She soothed, kneeling and scooping Jasmine into her arms. She bent her head into her daughter's neck, smelling the warm yeasty smell of her daughters skin. She needed a bath.  
  
She heard Severus clear his throat, and looked up to see him standing in the doorway.  
  
"So it's true then."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"She looks just like me." He breathed. His voice was awestruck. "Why didn't you tell me? I had no idea."  
  
"I didn't think you would want to know. You told me before we were married that you didn't want children." She said simply.  
  
"This changes everything." He said, moving to stand next to them. "Hello love. I'm your daddy." He said gently.  
  
Jasmine clutched at her mother, and began mewling, her eyes bright with terror.  
  
"Severus. I don't think she likes you very much right now. Please give her some time." Hermione's voice was low and she could not keep the anger she felt toward him from creeping in.  
  
"She'll have more than enough time. . . later. I'm moving the both of you back to Hogwarts tonight." He said calmly.  
  
"WHAT!" 


	4. Chapter 4

"Did I mumble? Don't look so incredulous, Wife. I said I'm taking you to Hogwarts. Now get your things." He spoke as if he were explaining the details of an outing to a child. . "Fuck you Severus Snape!" She swept past him, into the living room. Jasmine squirmed in her arms.  
  
"Where are you going? Stop! Look at me when I speak to you, Hermione." He growled. He was on her in a instant; grasping her chin with his hand he forcibly wrenched her head so that she was looking directly into his fathomless eyes.  
  
"No. I said no. I'm not going with you. You can't come here, break into my flat, bully my neighbour, and scare my daughter . . ." She shook her head free of his grasp.  
  
"I saved you. You! The brightest witch of your generation, and you repay me by whoring around with Weasley! For all I know the girl is his."  
  
"Right . . . Does she look like a Weasley to you?"  
  
He waved her comment away, as if it were a bothersome fly. "No. I can see it plainly. She has the Snape profile." He stroked Jasmine's nose, unselfconsciously. The toddler turned her head and buried her face in Hermione's breast. Severus frowned and then in a quiet voice asked, "Tell me Wife, how did I fail you?"  
  
"Fail me?"  
  
"I kept up my half of the bargain. I provided you with a home, servants, your every whim wish and fancy was catered to without complaint . . ."  
  
"Is that how you see it? You kept your half of the bargain, huh? How quaint. A home? You kept me locked up. I was virtually a prisoner in the dungeons."  
  
"It would have been irresponsible to give you free reign of the school at that time. Anti-Muggle sentiment ran too high . . ."  
  
"I wasn't married to you, I was awarded to you for your services to Voldemort."  
  
"Don't speak his name with your filthy tongue!"  
  
"I recon my tongue is cleaner than your conscience."  
  
"Tell me, how does it feel to know that you have sold your soul?"  
  
She saw stars as his slap burned across her cheek.  
  
"There's the Severus Snape I knew." She spat, wiping at the corner of her mouth, her sleeve smeared with blood.  
  
"You know nothing of it." He said bitterly.  
  
"You stood by and did nothing when Harry was slaughtered and the school sacked! And you, yes you dear husband invented the potion responsible for robbing the entire population of the muggle born witches of Britton of their magic, including myself! So tell me, how are you sleeping? Well, or do the daemons keep you awake during the lonely hours when you see yourself for the worm that you really are?"  
  
She watched as his face contorted itself from rage, and then grow mask like as he regained control. He did not slap her again.  
  
"I thought there would be some trouble convincing you to leave." He said. "No matter, I will have my daughter either with or without you . . . Stupify!"  
  
There was a brilliant flash and Hermione found herself descending into darkness.  
  
She woke to the ringing of the telephone. It was morning and watery yellow sunshine streamed in through the windows. All of the lights were still on, and she was soaking wet.  
  
"Severus?" She croaked. The phone continued it's shrill ringing, and then was cut off by her answering machine.  
  
"Miss Granger . . .Hello? Are you there? Do you plan on working today? This is highly inconvenient. Ring me when you get this."  
  
"SEVERUS!" She bellowed, rising onto shaky legs. Her head felt as if it were splitting. She staggered out of the empty living room only to find the kitchen and the bedroom similarly so. 


	5. Chapter 5

How would he know?

How would he know?

How would he know?

Two and a half years had passed since she escaped the charnel house that was Hogwarts. Growing ripe in a bed sit-- she spent her pregnancy cringing in the shadows, startling at the slightest sound and burrowing inward like a mouse.

Then Jasmine came! She burst forth in waves of pain and a gush of blood and water. They set her, pink and mewling and still wet from birth and her umbilical cord still attached, on her bare tummy and suddenly Hermione was alive again.

The shadows were banished by the unfocused blue jean gaze of her daughter. By the jasmine pale hand that rested on her breast, gently opening and closing like a sea anemone, as her daughter rooted and then latched on to nurse for the first time.

And now she was gone. Hermione felt an ache in her breast, and it was her heart bursting. For a time the shadows returned to claim her again, and she rocked on the floor in a tight ball, howling with grief.

She was not aware of the banging on her door. She did not hear it burst open nor did she feel herself gently lifted by strong arms to be cradled like a lost baby.

She awoke in her bed some hours later. Late afternoon sunshine streaming in through the window. She had been dreaming about Harry. They were sitting on an outcrop of rocks on a grassy hill high in the Scottish wilds. A moor, purple with heather lay in the valley below. The wind blew through the grass in gentle gusts turning their perch into an island in the middle of an emerald green ocean.

"Harry, I miss you so much. I've made such a mess of things," she said, her arms wrapped tightly around her folded legs.

"You did what you had to at the time, Hermione," He replied, rubbing her back. "But you can't stay here," he continued sadly. "Your daughter needs you to be strong. Find her and take her back from them."

"How? I'm powerless. I can't even begin to stand up to them."

"That's not the Hermione Granger that I knew," he said sharply. "You _can_ face them, and you _will_."

"But Harry!" She whined.

"No buts! Now WAKE UP!" He grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her, so she did.

She surfaced like someone drowning who searches for breath, gasping and clawing at the air, at the bed, grasping for a handhold on the reality that had so mercifully abandoned her some hours before.

There was a sudden weight on the bed, a heavy dip, and then she was wrapped in familiar arms.

"Hermione," her father's voice thrummed in her ears, soothing and guiding her though the fog like it had so many times before during the fever dreams of her childhood. "You're safe. I have you." His hand smoothed through her hair.

"I'm here too honey," her Mum cooed.

"Mum? Dad? How did you?"

"Your neighbor Chris," Her father answered. "He found your list of important numbers, and called us."

"Dad?" Hermione sobbed. "Daddy--"

"Hush now. You need to rest." He soothed, gently guiding her back down to the bed.

"Daddy, I can't. Jasmine needs me." Hermione cried out, but she lay back unable to fight.

"Wherever she is right now, she needs you to be strong and healthy." He answered carefully, glancing quickly at his wife for support. Hermione heard her mum's soft sob and it resonated within her as if they were tuning forks both set to the same pitch, and she began to cry again.

"We've called the police, and they are sending someone shortly, but for now you need to rest," her father patted her hand and rose from the bed. "Come Mum, let's let her rest," he said to his wife and they left together.

Sleep came again, and this time she did not dream.

A knock at her bedroom door woke her a short time later. The door opened and her father came in. He was still dressed in his blue scrubs. Hermione was ashamed to realize that she hadn't noticed before. He had a tumbler of water, which he handed to her with great care.

"Daddy?" She said thickly, her tongue felt like a dry piece of leather, and her throat was scratchy.

"The police are here to take a statement." He said, tenderly. "Drink this first. I brought you some aspirin." He set the pills on her nightstand.

She sipped the water carefully. "How long have I been out?" she asked, not wanting to broach the subject of her daughter. If she didn't speak it, it wouldn't be real.

"Awhile," He sat down at the edge of the bed, and took the glass from her.

"Daddy, I don't know what to tell them."

"The truth is always your best option in times like this," he rubbed her legs through the blanket.

She pulled a face, "Daddy, they wouldn't believe the truth."

"They might not, but I will. What happened to you, kitten?"

Hermione turned her face to the wall. "Her father took her," she whispered. She watched the cracks in the plaster double and then treble as her eyes misted and silent tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I take it that this was not an arranged visit?"

She shook her head, "No." She sat up in the bed, tenting her knees and hugging them close to her body. Her eyes felt like they were burning, but she forced herself to look at him.

"Daddy, I'm scared."

"I know kitten, we're all scared, but we'll get her back. You'll see."

"Daddy, it was strange. You dropped me off last night and he was here, sitting in my apartment. It was as if he had just found out about her. How would he know? Who told him?"

"Did you do anything differently? See anything strange recently?" her father handed her the glass again, this time with the aspirin. She took them and finished off the last of the water.

"I haven't noticed anyone lurking about, not that I would know if they were," she felt as if she were banging up against a wall. What had been different? There had been the episode with Jasmine and the cuddly toy, yet during his visit Severus did not ask if Jasmine had shown any aptitude for magic. The child minder had noticed something, but she would be the last person that Hermione would suspect of having ties to the Wizarding world. She had gone to the police-- The police! How stupid could she be? Of course the Muggle police were being monitored.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Daddy! I reported his name to the police. You said that there is a constable here now? I can't talk to him!" She cried. "Anything I say could go straight back to Voldemort!"

"Let it," he answered. "You must take that chance, Hermione, for Jasmine's sake."

"I don't understand." She had been so unprepared for his response. Was he actually encouraging her to plunge them all into further danger?

"It's not as if he couldn't find you, kitten. If I understand correctly what wizards are capable of-- he, Jasmine's father, chose to let you go. It was only after he learned about Jasmine that he chose to come. Continuing to live in hiding is not only cheating yourself, it cheats the world. You have so much potential, Hermione. Don't throw it all away because you are afraid. If you do that he wins." He hugged her tightly, and she heard him sniff, betraying his one chink in his strong facade.

"Oh Daddy, I love you so much," she whispered, and nestled herself closer, her tears wetting his shirt.

"I love you too kitten."


	6. Chapter 6

Ottery St. Mary was nestled on a series of gently rolling hills. It was as if the land that the town was built upon sought to imitate the gentle swells and dips of the nearby Atlantic Ocean. Row after row of weathered stucco and brick buildings lined slanting cobblestone streets. Petunia and gardenia cascaded like gentle waterfalls in riotous shades of purple and red above storefront windows. A young family lingered next to a brightly colored display of pottery, and Hermione searched the face of the littlest girl as her father drove slowly past.

"What is the address that we're looking for again, love?"

"We're looking for The London Inn. It's on 4 Gold Street, near the intersection of Silver," Hermione consulted her map. "Turn left at the next light, that should be Gold, and then find a car park, we can walk from there."

Hermione adjusted the papers on her lap one final time, reassuring herself that all of the important documents were present. Jasmine's birth certificate, the hospital record with its inky black footprints, medical records from the pediatrician, dental records supplied by her parents, the I.D. kit that she had put together on a whim while they were shopping for groceries at Somerfield, and several glossy photos taken recently at a playmate's birthday party. Jasmine smiling with her toothy grin, her chubby hands covered in chocolate frosting. Hermione didn't have anything more recent. She had planned on having Jasmine's portrait taken, but had never been able to scrape enough together to have it done. There was always some bill to pay or milk and bread to buy, it would have been so easy to ask her parents to pay for it. They had even offered on several occasions but pride kept her from accepting.

"Ready kitten?" her father asked, killing the ignition.

She nodded and checked her face in the mirror on the visor. She was pale, and her skin was blotchy from crying too much. She closed the manila file, and tucked it into a canvas messenger bag.

It had been a very long drive from London, and Hermione longed to stretch her legs. The day was late, fast approaching evening, but the air was cool, and would feel refreshing after the stuffy recycled air of the car. But before Hermione could open the door, her father stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"Hermione, I know he comes highly recommended-- but why would a reputable solicitor be conducting his business from a pub?"

"He isn't Daddy. It's another gateway, like the Leaky Cauldron in London. Tom said that I was to show Mr. Crowley's business card to the landlord and he would see us through."

The London Inn was a white brick two story. It was situated on a large public square where a group of young boys were skateboarding. A long white wooden banner edged in black ran the length of the building, advertising to passerby that there was food here among other things. It was supper time, and the pub was crowded with diners. The inside was bright yet bland with tasteful wooden furniture of a colonial design and a series of small banquet rooms lined in chevron printed pastel wallpaper. Small potted palms and arrangements of silk flowers filled empty corners in an attempt to add atmosphere, yet failing in an inexplicable way. The place was thoroughly Muggle, and try as she might, Hermione could not sense anything Magical about the place. Maybe Tom had the directions wrong.

"Excuse me," she said to the hostess, after making her way through the queue, "I'm looking for The London Inn, is there another in Ottery St. Mary?"

"No Ma'am. This is it. How many people are in your party?" she asked glancing up from her registry. The reception area was fairly busy with people coming and going, and she seemed to be harried.

"We're not here to dine," she replied pulling out the creamy vellum card that Tom had given to her to present to the landlord. "Is the owner here? Kelly Marsh-- He should be expecting us. Would you give this to him?"

"Her," the woman replied, her eyes narrowing. "I am Kelly Marsh, proprietor of The London Inn," she said ignoring the card.

"Oh, I thought--" Hermione stammered. "I'm not selling anything, if that's what you thought."

The woman looked pained and cut her off with an exasperated wave of her hand, "Don't worry about it, happens all of the time. Kelly's just one of those names."

"Tom of The Leaky Cauldron asked me to give you this card. He said that you would be able to put me in touch with Mr. Crowley," Hermione leaned in closely and whispered to her, careful to not be overheard. She dropped the card on top of the registry on the podium. Kelly did look at it now, almost fearfully as if it were something poisonous that could bite her. Her eyes had widened perceptibly at the mention of Mr. Crowley, and her face lost a bit of its color. A slender wand, light colored, possibly birch, appeared in her hand, possibly it had been concealed in the sleeve of her twill suit jacket. She tapped the card lightly, and the wand was hidden away again in one fluid, barely perceptible motion. The tiny vellum card grew into a standard size envelope, about the size of a greeting card. The small black glossy printing ran together like water and re formed into a wax seal in the stylized shape of a tiny black cauldron with a chunk missing from the bottom edge. Kelly tucked the envelope in her pocket and took two menus from the stack next to the podium.

"I believe your table is ready, Ma'am," she gave Hermione a hard stare and turned quickly before Hermione could question, and led the way to the dining area. Hermione and her dad had no choice but to follow.

"Marna," Kelly took an ebony skinned waitress by her elbow, "be a dear and take over for me up front." She stopped next to a table for two, a heavily scarred mahogany table that had been lacquered to a deep-- almost bloody-- sheen, and indicated that they should sit.

Hermione sat down, waiting for something to happen, she looked expectantly at Kelly, and then back at their table for two.

"Does Mr. Crowley plan on joining us for supper?" her father inquired.

Kelly tittered nervously, and Hermione felt the sharp tang of alarm seep through her body.

"He is expecting us?" Hermione was beginning to feel cranky. It felt as if Kelly were merely stringing them along, as if she was skirting something and Hermione did not feel like playing other people's games. "I feel like there is something that you are not telling me, and I don't appreciate it. If there is a problem, just say so and we can be on our way."

"No, if Tom sent you, of course Crowley is expecting you," She said sharply. "Whatever possessed him to take on new clients, especially a Mud-- ehm- Muggle." She grimaced. "Look-- have a leisurely meal. Order whatever you like, it's on the house." She wandered away muttering to herself.

"That's it. I've seen enough. Hermione, put your coat back on, we're leaving." Her father was so furious that his brows knit together into a single angry slash. His eyes blazed with a fire that seemed to flare out of him and scorch the retreating form of Kelly Marsh.

"And then what Daddy?" Hermione pleaded. "Mr. Crowley is the only solicitor in the Wizarding world that will even agree to an interview."

"I'll hire you the best solicitor money can buy. One of our kind. I'm tired of this mumbo jumbo. You're not one of them any more, darling. You'll just have to get used to it. I knew I was making a mistake when I sent you to that school. I never should have allowed it. Look at what it's done to you. You have no education beyond crystal gazing and reading tea leaves. I could have sent you off to live with a family of Pikers and you would have at least had an education in the real world."

Hermione sat in stunned silence. Was that what her father really thought? What he truly believed?

"Get your coat."

She gathered her things, and they left the pub unchallenged. Kelly was no where in sight. Just before leaving her father bellowed:

"Oi! That was the lousiest meal that I've ever had. Rat droppings in the water and a roach in my steak and kidney pie!"

The din in the restaurant died immediately, and there was the sound of cutlery dropping on china, and as they were walking out the door, the sound of retching.

They walked back to the car in silence, but once they were enclosed within, Hermione exploded, "How dare you!" she hit the dash with her open palm. "My daughter is kidnapped to the one place on earth where no one can reach her. Not only that, but she is in the care of the foulest creatures alive. You could hire the Queen Mother's own solicitors and they wouldn't be able to save her. When all it could take would be one word from that man." She jabbed her finger at The London Inn.

Her father ignored her and drove on, taking them out of the town and toward the highway that would take them home to London. His face was stony, and it was like talking to a wall. Night had fallen, and Hermione turned on the map light in the glove compartment.

"Daddy, don't take me home just yet. We're not that far from Ottery St. Catchpole."

There was a long moment of silence and then her father spoke, "What is in Ottery St. Catchpole?"

"The Burrow, and the Weasley family-- I hope."


End file.
